Shattered Bone

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In accordance with the Joint Ethics Regulation, Chapter 2, para. 2–207, the views presented in Shattered Bone are those of the author and do not represent the views of the Department of Defense, its Components, or the United States Air Force.

To my wife, the best friend I have ever had, and my children, who remind me every day that life is good.

The sun was just setting as the presidential motorcade turned onto the Minskoje Road, its waning haze barely burning through Moscow’s sulfur-rich air. Gennadii Sakarovek, the President of Russia, was on his way to the British Embassy for another meaningless conference on trade where he would spend the next three hours begging for money from men who were less than his equal, while smiling at their jokes and enduring their wives. In exchange for the cash, he would make promises of further reform. It would be a long night. He was in a bad mood.

Two cars behind Sakarovek in the motorcade, the Prime Minister of Russia, Vladimir Fedotov, sat in the back seat of his limousine alone, separated from his driver and bodyguard by a thick panel of reinforced, bulletproof glass. Gazing out the window, he watched the sun set over the city.

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